The Unkind Gods
by dilly r
Summary: When their fighters are destroyed in battle, ObiWan and Anakin are stranded and invited to attend a ritual celebration of their victory.


**The Unkind Gods**  
_by dilly r_

The light and shadow of fire and night played across Anakin's face as he sat before the bonfire. The ritual was for their victory -- if it had been that. Obi-Wan was too tired to know the difference. He only knew that the locals thought they had won. He tried to watch the story dance being performed for their benefit, but his attention drifted back to his Padawan's troubled expression again and again.

Obi-Wan leaned slightly toward Anakin and whispered his name. Anakin blinked, looked at Obi-Wan from the corner of his eye, then forward again.

"Yes, Master?"

"There is something troubling you."

Anakin shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Talk to me about it later," Obi-Wan said. It was not a suggestion. Anakin shifted his weight uncomfortably, and Obi-Wan sat straight again.

The people of Balsa were not primitive, but they held to their ancient beliefs more fiercely than most other cultures. Obi-Wan suspected that it was because they had been nearly eradicated a century ago when another culture had come to their planet after a disaster had destroyed their own. It had only been the sometimes unreasonable luck of warfare that had seen the Balsai successful in defending their land and their ways. Now, they paid the Republic tax, and the Jedi helped defend them.

The performer ended his story dance with an explosion that, by some form of trickery, seemed to erupt from his fingertips into the sky. The Balsai hooted their appreciation, and the two Jedi clapped quietly.

The elderwoman rose, and everyone but the crackling fire was silent. She walked up the small slope to where the Jedi sat in their place of honor, on the flat rock. She stood before them. Her shadow was doubled and crossed over itself in an x, casting a shadow over both of them. She took a necklace of blue beads off from her long neck and bowed to place it over Anakin's head.

"For the selflessness of your bravery," she said. Though the Balsai rarely spoke Basic, the elderwoman spoke it perfectly.

Anakin muttered a thank you.

The elderwoman took a pink shell necklace from her neck and placed it over Obi-Wan's head. "For the purity of your leadership."

"It was an honor to lead your people," Obi-Wan said, bowing slightly.

She smiled, baring straight, white teeth. "I know that you are tired, but we would greatly appreciate it if you would both come down, and join us in our prayer to Sram."

"Of course." Obi-Wan stood. Anakin followed Obi-Wan's example, gingerly fingering the blue beaded necklace.

Together, the three walked down the slop to the bonfire. The small crowd crowed its pleasure, and they stood -- many of them bounced from foot to foot like eager school children, the fire picking out the glint of their eyes and smiles. Obi-Wan steeled himself as he joined their circle around the fire, flanked by the elderwoman and his Padawan.

The elderwoman raised her hands over her head, and the crowd stilled and silenced. The elderwoman tiled her chin up -- lifted her face up toward the sky, with her hands twisting on their wrists in the air. The crowd raised their hands, then their faces, up to the star encrusted night.

Obi-Wan did as they did, but with a stillness and emptiness of a man following a set of instructions. He whispered to Anakin, and Anakin raised the hand that was still his own flesh, and he raised his face -- raised both in jerks both defiant and obedient.

They stood together that way, all of them, and a low hum began to fill the space between them and mingled with the snapping of flames. As the hum gained intensity, the crowd began to sway as if to a melody, their hands twisting above their heads.

The elderwoman's voice erupted into a long, high note. Then, the note deteriorated into words, unfamiliar to Obi-Wan, that fell from her lips like drops of water into the ground. It was like a song, but there was no rhythm or flow, only words layered on top of themselves until her breath ran out, and she had to start again. The rest of them joined in, but Obi-Wan could not. He looked at Anakin. Anakin's eyes were fixed above, and his jaw was set fiercely.

Across from them, the circle broke to allow a naked girl enter. She walked to the fire, trembling. She was Balsai, but she seemed as much a stranger to the ritual as the Jedi. She was trembling, naked, pale. The flickering fire only made her paler.

Slowly, the words quieted down to a hum once more. The girl stood, very still, watching the fire with round eyes.

The elderwoman spoke sharply to the girl. The girl did not move. The elderwoman spoke again, and two women emerged from the circle. The women stood by the girl, one on either side of her, and gently pushed her arms up by the her elbows until her hands entered the fire.

The girl screamed -- tilted her head back and screamed to the sky, but she did not remove her hands from the blistering heat.

Next to Obi-Wan, Anakin squeezed his eyes shut.

The crowd was silent except for their humming. They did not look at the girl. They kept their faces uplifted.

Finally, the girl fell to the ground, unconscious from the pain. The women lifted her and took her out of the circle. Obi-Wan knew that the girl would be impregnated that night, and the Balsai believed her baby would grow be a great warrior.

The crowd let out a final shout to the sky, then let their hands fall. Obi-Wan and Anakin let their hands fall with them.

The elderwoman smiled at Obi-Wan. "Thank you. You will be taken to your room."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan returned, and he bowed to her.

A boy with a constant and huge smile led them into the palace, a short distance from the ritual site, and took them to their room. It was large. The main room led to a balcony, a bedroom, and two separate washrooms. Once they were left alone, Obi-Wan made his way to one of the washrooms immediately. He wet his hands, his face, his hair. There would be time for the rest in the morning, but he felt clean enough to manage sleep.

When he emerged, he found Anakin sitting at the foot of one of the beds. Obi-Wan could sense any number of emotions, not the least of which was anger. He stood by Anakin and waited.

"I know you want me to tell you what's wrong," Anakin finally said. "But I already told you before it happened."

"The ritual," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan. He did not mask the malice in his eyes. "You could have told her that we didn't want to participate. That we didn't want them to do that for us."

"They did not do it for us," Obi-Wan said. "It is their culture. I know you find it difficult to accept because it is different than what you're used to, but--"

Anakin growled. "No. No, I do understand it. That's why I wish you would have told them that we couldn't be a part of it."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. "What do you understand, Anakin?"

" i _That_. /i That feeling." Anakin held his hands out in front of him. "That. i _That_. /i "

"You're being emotional." Obi-Wan tried to keep his voice firm, but concern softened it. "Tell me what you mean."

"Being i _that_ /i . Being i _chosen /i _." The word sounded ripped from his throat -- chosen.

Obi-Wan stood very still. He felt as though he'd forgotten language, and he could do nothing but stand still and useless.

"Or maybe not that," Anakin said. His eyes were focused forward, at nothing. "Maybe I'm what her child will be. Maybe my mother was that."

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan said, his voice barely touching the word.

Anakin pulled away from Obi-Wan's hand on his shoulder -- pulled his arms back in against himself. Obi-Wan felt Anakin's emotions suddenly shut away from him. "Is that enough talking about it?"

"It's been a long day," Obi-Wan said, withdrawing from Anakin's side. "Try to get some sleep. Master Windu said that the Republic ships would be here to pick us and what remains of our fighters in midday."

"Yes. Master."

Obi-Wan went to the other bed. He pulled the sheets down. He listened to Anakin crawl up the bed and lay on his back -- his hand behind his head and his robotic arm at his side.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He tried to convince himself to simply slide into bed, say nothing more, to let the next day's activity drive the night's events into some dark depth they would never touch again.

He couldn't.

"I realize that you think a better Master would have protected you -- would have known to protect you. But perhaps you are old enough not to be protected anymore. You of all people should know that there are worse things than being the Chosen One."

Anakin turned his head and looked at Obi-Wan for a moment, then looked back up toward the ceiling. "What would you know about being chosen?"

Obi-Wan watched Anakin's unflinching profile. Outside the wind blew, and inside the walls creaked.

"Nothing," Obi-Wan said. And he laid down on the soft, down mattress, letting silence overtake them.


End file.
